Then, in graphic language, she went on to describe the affair at the crossing.
“Those little children were anxious to get home. They waited all of five minutes, and there was not the first chance given them to cross over, so stupid and selfish have the drivers and chauffeurs in Oakvale become, because the law is not strictly enforced. Then that one little chit, Anita Burns, bravely started across, eager to get to where an anxious mother waited for her. I saw a team of horses towering over her, and my heart literally stood in my mouth with fear.”
She had everybody intensely interested by this time. Hugh drew back a little for he feared she might mention him by name, and he shrank from publicity.
“Just in the nick of time I saw a boy dart forward,” continued the lady passionately. “He was lost to my sight for a brief period, and then when I thought I should faint with fear and suspense, I saw him appear on the opposite walk, carrying the child, uninjured, in his arms. He set her down on her feet, waved his hand to her, and then walked off with several of his scout chums, just as unconcerned, apparently, as though it might be nothing unusual; nor was it, my friends, for by this time we have all become accustomed to hear about—Hugh Hardin doing valiant things like that.”
She paused, because there was a wild outburst of cheers.
Hugh was as red as fire.
“If I had known that you saw that little happening, Mrs. Beverly, and meant to speak of it here, I might not have come over, though I certainly did want to hear what was said and done,” Hugh managed to stammer, at which there was another round of cheers accompanied by hand clapping.
“That is the best part of it all, Hugh,” said the lady. “The fellow who can do a clever thing like that and still shrink from publicity, doubly wins our admiration. But, my friends, I only mentioned the incident to show you how at any day there may take place a terrible tragedy at one of these unprotected crossings, where our innocent children have to pass over, going to and coming home from school. Now what shall we do about it? Must we wait until a fatality comes about before we combine all forces for good to crush these menaces to our peace and happiness? I say to you the hour has struck, and the women of this town are at last determined to sweep every obstacle out of their way in order to attain their end.”
Mayor Strunk threw up his hands.
“I surrender, ladies!” he hastened to exclaim, with the air of a man who knew how to get in out of the wet when it began raining. “Just as you say, the time for delay has passed, and from this night forward you can count on me as being with you, heart and soul. That little girl, Anita Burns, is my own grandchild, some of you may remember, and if anything had happened to her could I ever forgive myself? I guess it needed something like this to take the scales from my eyes.”